


Gold and Bronze and Silk

by VerdantMoth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Kissing, Lingerie, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Mask, Past Relationship(s), Sex Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Merlin is panting by the time the hand slips down further, finds his glans and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Please.”





	Gold and Bronze and Silk

Merlin hovers in the corner of the room, half hidden in the shadows, half glowing in the low amber lighting. He is surveying the crowd, bored already, even though it’s only the first night of the hunt. But he’s run these circles for a few years now. He knows the crowd pretty well, has already seen clean faced Gwaine stalking his way towards a leather clad Percival.

Mordred had caught his eye earlier, painted like a dewy angel, in a feathery-white gown. He’d half been ready to take the offer, pleased with the way Mordred’s hands fit around his shoulders when they danced, but Elyan had arrived.

Elyan, well oiled and in a shimmering silver. Merlin didn’t blame Mordred for choosing him. He’s half inclined to give up, to call this year a bust, when some sense in him tingles. His eyes scan the room and then he sees him.

He’s beautiful. Golden skin glowing, waist cinched in a golden corset, that makes his chest look absolutely obscene. He’s got lace panties that do nothing to hide how well endowed he is. Miles of long, shaven legs, secured in gold platform heels. Merlin is so distracted by his body, the firmness and thickness of it, that it takes him a moment to register the red painted lips or the mask. Gold and delicate, curling down his rosy cheeks and curling up into a crown above his soft yellow curls. Merlin isn’t sure, but he thinks those eyes might be painted the same red as his lips.

He’s studying Merlin, who for the first time feels self-conscious. He’s in his own bronze corset, and silk panties. He knows it contrast well against the paleness of his skin. He’s one of the few men here who chooses not to shave, preferring wine-colored stockings that match the delicate embroidered patterns on his top. He knows he can’t be sure, but he imagines that he sees the strangers eyes follow the deep color down to Merlin’s own dainty heels.

He doesn’t imagine the way the stranger cocks his head, a silent invitation. Merlin complies, winds his way through the bodies intertwined on the dance floor, his heels clacking loudly despite the music blaring over head.

The stranger doesn’t move. Makes Merlin approach him. The closer he get the more he can see. The gold, like Merlin’s own bronze, is overlaid with delicate stitching, in bright red that matches his lips, his eyes.

Now he crooks a finger at Merlin, and those eyes, so so blue, have a question in them. Merlin raises a brow. They haven’t even touched, and this stranger wants to choose him? Red lips smirk, bow and he leans forward so that Merlin can feel his breath against his own dark-painted lips. 

Merlin answers him, leans forward and parts his lips. The stranger smells like cherries, and Merlin wrinkles his nose when he swipes his tongue across chapped lips, because he taste like them too.

The laugh it earns him, low in the chest but high in pitch is worth it. “Cherry not your thing?”

Merlin shakes his head. “I prefer strawberry.”

He gets a warm, dark look, and the stranger is curling his fingers into the waistband of Merlin’s silk, careful to avoid where his red, leaky head is starting to push up and out. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

Merlin carefully splays his fingers over the broad shoulders, lets them curl around his neck. “You’re assuming there will be a next time.”

The stranger’s eyes go serious and he tugs, gently, pulling Merlin against him. Merlin can feel the hard length of him against his thigh, can feel the wet patch, and it makes him involuntary shudder. 

“I assume nothing. I know.”

Merlin doesn’t like the confidence in that voice, wants to do something about it. So he moves one of his hands, finds the exposed nipple and gently tugs it with deft fingers. The stranger bucks against him, smearing the wet warmth against Merlin’s thigh.

He leans in for a kiss, lashes brushing against his cheek and he waits for permission. The stranger gives it to him, bites at his lips greedily, tongue pushing insistingly against his lips. Merlin parts them, and then slides his own tongue along the one that invades his mouth. It taste like chocolate and mint and cherry, and Merlin is surprised to find it’s not entirely unpleasant.

He must make some noise, because the stranger smirks against his lips and pulls him closer by his hips. They brush against each other, and it makes both of them gasp into the kiss. Merlin moves first this time, hand slipping down to grasp the firm, silk covered globes of the man’s ass. They’re too much, even for his broad hands, but enjoys kneading them and feeling the warmth. The stranger bucks against him, makes a needy noise, and then his own hands find Merlin’s ass beneath the silk, tracing Merlin’s own curved backside.

He seems a little surprised to find hair, and Merlin pulls back ready to say something, but the stranger just grins, eyes dark. “May I?”

Merlin nods, and when broad but soft fingers trace his crack, he buries his face in the strangers neck. He plants open mouth kisses there, wet and hot, and the stranger explores beneath the silk. Merlin can’t help canting against him, seeking some sort of relief. One finger finally finds his taint, swirls around it, testing, prodding, but not entering,

Merlin is panting by the time the hand slips down further, finds his glans and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Please.”

He isn’t sure what he’s begging for, but suddenly the stranger removes his hands and steps back. Merlin almost sobs with disappointment. “You don’t know who I am.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t… does it matter?”

The stranger lifts a shoulder. “To me, yeah.”

Merlin frowns and studies the blue eyes, the painted lips, the bound waist. The stranger reaches for him, cups his jaw, and his thumb hovers over Merlin’s pulse. This time, when he kisses Merlin, he’s gentle, licking in to his mouth and nibbling at his lips. His other hand finds the small of Merlin’s back, traces patterns there. 

 

Something clicks and Merlin pulls back, reaches and unties the mask. The red painted eyes stare at him, amusement and a little fear shining in them.

“Arthur?”

His lips quirk. “Surprised?” He grips Merlin’s hips, grinds against him.

Merlin can’t breath and he isn’t sure if its his corset, or the grinding, or the fact that its  _ Arthur  _ that’s stealing his breath.

“ You left.”

He nods, and then steps back and offers Merlin his hand. “I did.”

Merlin takes it. “You left with no explanation.”

“Come with me, we can talk about it.”

“And if there are things I would rather do first?”

Arthur smirks. “There always are, Merlin. But we can talk in the morning.”

  
  



End file.
